


If You Wanna Be My Lover (The Space Adventures of Scary, Ginger, and Baby Spice)

by imperatrixxx



Series: The Mikylux Chronicles [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Blink and you miss it allusion to mpreg, Crack, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Darth Vader fetish, Emperor Hux, Enforcer Kylo Ren, Established Relationship, Evil Space Boyfriends, Fluff, Humor, Inappropriate use of Darth Vader Action figures (implied), M/M, Millicent (brief), Misuse of the Force, Mitaka is an evil genius but still adorable, Pimp My Command Shuttle, Pool Table Sex, Princess Mitaka, Snark, The DeathPod (tm), The Knights of Ren are basically frat bros, Threesome, Wholefoods Market (brief), bloodplay (brief), cross dressing, mention of boot-licking (brief), mention of fisting (brief), mention of rimming (brief), mentions of BDSM, space mullet, the Snokadel, water sports (brief)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6191902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperatrixxx/pseuds/imperatrixxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Now with the epilogue no one asked for!</em><br/>Mitaka meets the Knights of Ren, the Finalizer runs out of conditioner, and Snoke (Force help us!) learns to Google. This is the story of adorable evil genius Dopheld Mitaka and how he rose to greatness with his lovers, General Hux and Kylo Ren.<br/>A sequel to Dangerous Liaisons and The Kiss.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knights in Black Sackcloth

  
“As long as you’re happy,” Phasma regarded him with piercing blue eyes.

“I am,” Mitaka reassured her, smiling into his drink.

“I can’t say I understand,” her gaze was appraising.

“When Ren needs someone to cuddle, he has me, and when he needs someone to Force choke, he has Hux.”

The Captain was convulsed by a sudden coughing fit.

“And then we all have some toys we’re all fond of … and some lengths of Rhinnalian rope with particular sentimental meaning.”

“Stop, Stop!” she shrieked. “You’re making whiskey come out my nose.”

“Are you distressing our dear captain?” Ren glided across to the corner of the officers’ bar, and placed a large hand on Mitaka’s shoulder.

“I was just telling her about our sex life.” Mitaka had become considerably less reticent in recent months.

“Hmmm,” pondered Ren, draping himself theatrically over a chair. “Did you tell her about the floggers? We have quite the collection.”

“You are the worst. Seriously, though,” she fixed her steely eyes on Ren, “if you hurt him – against his will, I mean – I will end you.”

 

*

“Sir,” Mitaka’s voice cut through the saber’s crackle and hiss. “General Hux requests that you cease this at once!” Ren took a deep breath and clicked off his weapon, letting the hilt fall to the ground. “And you know I don’t like it when you damage the ship.” This wasn’t entirely true – Mitaka in fact greatly enjoyed Ren’s unbridled displays of power – but he couldn’t condone the destruction of First Order property, and he knew what a headache it caused for accounting.

Ren inclined his helmet slightly, and then the dark hulking figure swept across the floor to enfold the smaller man in an improbable embrace. He would deny to anyone who asked – especially Hux – that the words muffled by his helmet and Mitaka’s dark hair were “I’m sorry.”  

 

*

Hux looked even crosser than usual. He had awoken angry, in the huge bed the three of them shared, and had become angrier still as the day wore on. Living with the co-commanders, Mitaka had become something of a connoisseur of rage. Although more destructive, he found he preferred Ren’s violent storms, which passed quickly, to Hux’s quiet simmering wrath.

 “Sir?” Mitaka stealthily squeezed Hux’s hand where it rested on the console, “what’s wrong?” He spoke quietly, mindful of the officers around them.

 “Have I been snapping?” Mitaka nodded. Hux sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s the Knights of Ren. They are arriving this evening.” Another, louder sigh.

 “Are they really that bad?” They had not paid the Finalizer a visit during Mitaka’s tenure on the destroyer.

“Worse.”

“What time are they arriving?”

“Whatever time they damn well please.”

“What is so bad about them?” Mitaka was genuinely curious.

“Well, Kylo Ren is the most civilized one of them. By far.”

“Oh.”

“They absolutely destroy the ship. And they use all the conditioner.”

 

*

 

The knights arrived in a flotilla of Upsilon-class shuttles. Six masked men, clad in near identical battle-scarred masks, singed black robes, and torn capes, swooped up the ramp, past Hux and Mitaka, shouting, and ululating, as they galloped onto the ship. “Follow them, would you?” Hux had not lost the habit of assigning Mitaka dangerous missions. “I won’t say keep them out of trouble, but at least report the damage back to me.”

 Light sabers out, they slashed the walls as they went, delighting in destruction. Few troopers were patrolling at this late hour, but those who were scuttled away swiftly from the deranged and bedraggled flock, horrified by the nightmarish prospect of multiple Rens.

 The knights surged ahead, a raucous murder of crows, and Mitaka fell behind. Following the cries and the trail of burning debris, he found them deep within the ship’s hold. Leaning heavily on the doorway, he looked into the interior of an unused storage space. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he saw that the knights, weapons drawn, had formed a circle. In the middle, kneeling and unmasked, was Kylo Ren.

 “Do you, Kylo, Master of the Knights of Ren, acknowledge your failings?” One of the men grabbed Kylo by the hair baring his neck.

 “Do you admit that you are unfit to lead the glorious Knights of Ren?” asked a second, raising his saber.

 If you were to ask Dopheld Mitaka, after the event, what had gone through his mind at that moment, he would have told you “absolutely nothing.” Courage was not in his nature. Every time bravery was required of him – and it was required often – he simply gritted his teeth and forced himself forward, while every instinct in his gut shouted “No!” This time, though, something different happened. He saw the Knights of Ren about to kill Kylo, and with no thought at all, and certainly no common sense, he sprinted across the room, launched himself into the circle, and threw himself in front of his lover, burying his face in his hair, using himself as a human shield. They remained frozen in that tableau for an eternity of seconds, Mitaka clinging to Kylo, and expecting at any moment to feel the fire of a plasma blade cleave him in two.

 He became aware that Ren was shaking beneath him. A barely repressed quivering grew stronger and stronger until it broke free in a peel of laughter. And all around him, the laughter grew, not mocking or hateful, but real and joyous. Shocked, Mitaka drew back to see a rare bright smile illuminating his lover’s face.

 “And who, Kylo, is this paragon?” the tallest of the knights asked, trying to catch his breath.

 “Knights of Ren, I present to you Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka.” Kylo rose to his feet, drawing the smaller man up with him.

 “An honor,” a second knight intoned, and the five still standing, greeted Mitaka with exaggerated sweeping bows. The sixth knight had collapsed to the ground in a shaking heap.

 “I don’t see what’s so funny,” Mitaka huffed, relieved and incensed at once. “I thought they were going to kill you.”

 “It’s a ritual,” Ren reassured him. “When the knights reunite with their master, they enact his symbolic sacrifice. It never results in an actual death.”

 “Well, almost never,” added the pile of rags from the floor, before resuming its laughing fit.

 “But, oh you should have seen it,” the tallest knight addressed Mitaka – this little unarmed man throwing himself into a circle of light sabers!”

 “I’m not that small!” Mitaka squared his shoulders and glowered.

 “Don’t you know we are the most feared militia in the galaxy?”

 “Apparently not,” retorted Mitaka, earning himself another round of raucous laughter.

 “If only the Resistance had 1000 men like you, the First Order wouldn’t stand a chance!”

 Mitaka continued scowling. “Don’t mind them,” muttered Kylo, “they only talk like this to people they like.”

 “It’s true,” added another of the masked men. “We’re actually all quite jealous. I don’t think I have anyone who would sacrifice themselves to protect me from me. Maybe my mother,” he mused. “Or maybe your mother, Kylo.”

 “Don’t talk about my mother,” he growled.

 

*

 

“Serioussssllly,” slurred the knight known as Nero, “are there others of you? I need my own brave Mitaka. Do you have a brother? Or a sister? I’m not picky.”

“I’m not that brave,” Mitaka insisted, a little distracted by the way the light glanced off the man’s bouncy copper tresses.

“You are, though,” countered Pyro Ren, whose cherubic face was framed by dark gold curls, short in the front and falling in a long cascade down his back.

From behind a sheet of perfectly straight silver-blond hair, Milo Ren concurred. “It’s not hard to be brave when you are strong – when you have the Force and a saber – but it’s another matter entirely when you are small and weak.”

“He’s not weak,” Kylo hugged Mitaka closer to him, aware of how quips about his height rankled (he was, after all, barely three inches shorter than Kylo and very nearly as tall as Hux). “You should not underestimate him.”

Mitaka regarded the surreal scene around him. Despite looking barely old enough to drink, the six knights – seven including Kylo – were reposed about Ren’s chambers in various states of inebriation. Following the incident in the storage hold, the knights had galumphed noisily to these rooms and removed their masks, shaking out their lustrous manes, before uncorking numerous bottles of Correllian reserve. After multiple embarrassing toasts to his courage and loyalty, Mitaka himself felt quite drunk. “I don’t think I can walk,” he whispered loudly into Kylo’s shoulder. The latter, apparently unaffected by the alcohol, lifted the smaller man into his arms and carried him up to Hux’s suite.

 Mitaka bounced as Ren dropped him onto the emperor-sized bed the three shared, and Hux murmured in sleepy protest. Ren removed Mitaka’s boots and jacket. “You smell of knight,” Hux grumbled, wrapping a lazy arm around Mitaka’s waist and snuggling into his neck. “Where are you going?” Hux squinted up at the imposing form looming over the bed.

 “I have to get back. It’s tradition that we spend the whole first night drinking.” Ren leant down to kiss each man, before stalking out of the suite.

 

*

 

The cafeteria was not the best venue for a rousing oration, but it was the largest open space available on the Finalizer, and Hux well knew the importance of motivational rhetoric. Tables and chairs had been pushed to one side and stacked on top of one another in a haphazard ziggurat. How Hux missed Starkiller Base with its imposing architecture and vast parade grounds, perfect for delivering speeches. The new, compact DeathPod (tm), which the Finalizer now towed around behind it like a glorified caravan, could take down a dwarf star, but it lacked the grandeur, the pageantry, and the dark soul-scouring poetry of Starkiller. It might destroy planets, but it had no heart.

 Hux began his declamation. “It’s good training for the troops,” Phasma whispered to Mitaka standing beside her on the makeshift stage, “to develop a tolerance for boredom.” Kylo Ren, situated beside Hux in a reluctant show of allegiance, exhaled melodramatically. No doubt his eyes were rolling behind his mask.

“… and so we shall destroy the treacherous worlds, who continue to support the _Loathsome_ Resistance ….” Hux raised his voice as he warmed to his favorite theme. A sudden susurration passed through the crowd. Troopers turned toward the cafeteria’s back door, where the Knights of Ren flowed into the room, like a particularly battered storm cloud. The mob parted for them as they surged forward, leaping onto the stage and surrounding Mitaka, who shrank back against the safety of Phasma.

 “What are they doing?” Hux grabbed at Kylo’s arm. “Don’t let them hurt him.”

 “They won’t,” Kylo glanced at Hux’s white knuckles. “I can tell. Force connection, remember?”

 “Are they still drunk?” Hux could smell the spirits on Kylo’s breath, even through the helmet.

 “Definitely.”

 Milo swept about to address the crowd. “We interrupt this broadcast,” he shouted, “for an important announcement. For acts of extraordinary valor, we grant Dopheld Mitaka honorary status as a Knight of Ren. We perform homage before him and swear to him a sacred oath to defend his honor and his life as our own.” As one they knelt before him, before rising and lifting him up on their shoulders. Their gleeful chant – MI-TA-KA, MI-TA-KA – was taken up by the Storm Troopers. Mitaka was, a popular figure on the ship, as far as officers went, and anything that interrupted one of Hux’s monologues was a welcome relief. The Knights, bearing a speechless Mitaka aloft, swept from the room.

 

*

 

“Really???” Hux addressed his datapad.

Kylo was sprawled beside him on the bed. “Hmmm?” he inquired, running his hand idly through Mitaka’s dark hair. The latter was, as usual, watching a nature holo-documentary.

“Tomorrow’s duty roster lists a certain _Dopheld Mitaka Ren_.”

“ _Ren_ is an official title,” Mitaka sniffed haughtily, “given to me by the knights.”

“I see,” responded Hux without enthusiasm.

“You’re just jealous,” teased Kylo. “If you want my last name so badly, you can just propose to me.”

“In your dreams,” the red-head sneered, “I hate you.”

“Mmmmm, passionately,” agreed Kylo, leaning over to bite Hux’s ear.

“Go away,” responded Hux unconvincingly, as Kylo nuzzled his neck, displacing Mitaka from his lap in the process. “I said go away,” he restated with even less conviction as Mitaka joined Kylo in unbuttoning the general’s shirt. “This is deeply unfair,” he opined, “being set upon by two knights of Ren.”

“There are another six downstairs, if you like,” offered Kylo.

“They are actually surprisingly cute,” added Mitaka, “I think that’s why they wear the helmets.”

“Perish the thought,” Hux shuddered. “I would never get the stench out of the sheets.” Kylo snorted and bit harder.

 

 

 

 


	2. Felucia

The observation deck was quiet at this hour. Felucia rose up before them, a marble swirled with green and blue. Hux regarded it impassively – he had destroyed lots of pretty planets in his life. He synced the DeathPod with his datapad and began charging it. The DeathPod might be cheap and portable, but it took forever to charge from the Finalizer's turbo lasers. Also, it looked like a giant silver toaster.

Mitaka had settled himself in front of the expansive windows. “It’s so beautiful,” he breathed. “Do you know it’s the home of the gelagrub?” His dark eyes were glowing. “Can we visit?”

“No, we can’t visit. We are here to destroy it. The Felucians are suspected of supporting the _Loathsome_ Resistance.”

Mitaka turned around and gaped at him. His eyes were bright with tears, but he spoke with steely resolve. “If you destroy this planet, I will never speak to you again.”

Hux crouched down next to him, trying to meet his gaze. “I know this is hard, but sometimes we have to do things for the greater good, even if those things seem bad. Don’t you want the First Order to rule the galaxy?”

“I want galactic domination as much as the next person!” insisted Mitaka (although in this case the next person was Hux, and no one wanted galactic domination as much as Hux). “I was raised in the First Order! My mother died for the First Order! I have dedicated my whole life to the First Order!”

“So you understand why this one planet needs to be sacrificed for the good of the galaxy as a whole.”

“It’s never just one planet, though, is it? By the time you’re done destroying planets, there will be no galaxy left to rule.”

Hux stared at him in shock. “I had not suspected you of harboring such doubts. Don’t you want to wipe out the _Loathsome_ Resistance?”

“Of course I do. I just don’t see why the gelagrubs have to suffer.” Mitaka attempted to scowl.

Hux steeled himself against Mitaka’s adorable pouting. “Look, even if I wanted to spare that probable hive of scum and villainy,” he indicated the shining world below, “I have direct orders from Leader Snoke. Disobeying them would constitute treason, and I would be put to death. Regardless of your personal wishes – or my desire to accommodate them – there is _nothing_ I can do.”

At that moment, Kylo Ren blustered onto the deck. “What have you done to upset him now?” he demanded, wheeling on Hux. He had a bad habit of picking up on Mitaka’s moods and then holding Hux responsible for them.

“He doesn’t want us to destroy the planet,” Hux explained, rising from his crouched position. “It has grubs or something.”

“It’s just some planet.” Kylo sounded baffled. He was not a sentimental man.

“I hate you both.” With what dignity he could salvage, Mitaka rose to his feet and stalked off.

In the Penthouse suite, sleep eluded Kylo and Hux. The bed was too vast and too cold without Mitaka lying between them, joining them together in a tangle of limbs. It felt almost like the old days, when the two men had pretended to barely tolerate each other. Back then, sex had been brutal and satisfying, but any expression of an emotion – other than anger, hatred, or disdain – had seemed an impossible intimacy. Mitaka had provided a catalyst in their relationship. Although the commanders would never admit it, the warmth and protectiveness that they each expressed towards him had, somehow, grudgingly and haltingly, crept into their relationship with each other. With his easy and open affection and his fierce sweetness, he created a space in which the other men could – sometimes – put aside their rivalry and simply be.

In other words, they were completely lost without him.

“I should really send him for reconditioning,” said the general, giving up all pretense of slumber, “for expressing treasonous thoughts.”

“Reconditioning?” Kylo sounded intrigued.

“Relax, it’s nothing to do with hair treatments. It involves brain washing and electric shocks.”

“That still sounds good though.”

“It’s not! Could you just concentrate on the problem for once? Not everything is about hair products and torture! What are we going to do about Mitaka?”

“I don’t see why he can’t have his own opinions. He’s not supposed to be some mindless storm trooper.” Kylo himself had begun to question authority of late. (Of course he had never respected Hux's rank, but his devotion to the Supreme Leader had been absolute. Now, though, his soul wavered; he feared that Snoke would see his attachment to his lovers as a weakness and demand that he abandon them, or worse.) 

“Perfect ideological conformity is a cornerstone of the First Order!” Hux spluttered.

“What have I told you about quoting from your speeches in bed? It is literally the opposite of hot.”

Hux huffed. “Sometimes I don’t think you even care about the ideology of the First Order. It’s just the backdrop for your ridiculous Skywalker family drama.”

“If so, Snoke agrees with me,” Kylo replied smugly.

“Ugh! What have I told _you_ about talking about Snoke in bed? There is only one dark lord we mention here, and only when you have been very, _very_ good.”

“Have I been good?” He scooted toward Hux, his hand reaching for the other man’s throat.

“No! Stop that! I’m too worried about Mitaka to indulge your weird fetish right now.”

“I suppose he’s in his old quarters,” sighed the knight, lowering his hand sadly.

“Unless he’s out back sabotaging the DeathPod.”

“We should find him.”

Mitaka, puffy-eyed and pale, opened the door to find Hux and Ren, clad in immaculate black silk pajamas and Darth Vader fleece sleep pants respectively, standing outside. Hux stared in horror at the tiny room, with its narrow mattress. How did regular officers live like this? It would be difficult to accommodate two – let alone three – men in that bed. He shuddered and, once again, congratulated himself on being better than other people.

“You’re the brains of this operation,” Kylo began, sitting down on the miserable bed and pulling Mitaka onto his lap, “how do we fix this?” Hux scowled down at both them, he wanted to object that _he_ was, in fact, The First Order’s Finest Tactician, but he had nothing.

Mitaka’s face lit up. “Take a holo of the DeathPod firing on some random asteroid and then get one of your IT guys to hack the First Order databases to remove all trace of Felucia's continued existence.”

“Would an IT guy do that?” Hux asked, in shock. The treason in the ranks extended from the storm troopers all the way to the top, it seemed. To Hux himself. And when had his loyalties shifted from Snoke to Mitaka?

“IT’s crawling with Resistance sympathizers. I thought you knew. It’s why our OS is always crashing and why you keep losing your archived messages.”

“I thought that was just because Ren kept destroying the electronics.”

Kylo glowered.

“How would we keep this” – these traitorous activities, Hux’s mind helpfully supplied – “from the Supreme Leader?” Kylo, with his Force training, might be able to block Snoke from his mind on occasion, but Hux could not.

“Actually,” smirked Mitaka, recalling his one audience with the Supreme Leader, “I know _exactly_ how to keep Snoke out of your mind.” Mitaka described Snoke's flustered response to the sight of the co-comandeers naked and beautifully bound in crimson cord.

It turned out that three people could, in fact, occupy the single bed.

 

*

“Stay in bed,” Kylo reached out with one long arm and groped around blindly until he found Hux. The three of them, feeling nostalgic for the Rhinnalian silk rope Hux kept in his nightstand, had returned to the Penthouse suite late the previous night. 

“It is 0500 hours,” snapped Hux, trying to pull away.

“It’s a holiday."

“What holiday?”

“Darth Vader Day,” he replied, emerging from his eiderdown cocoon.

“You made that up,” accused Hux.

“Yes.”

“Let me guess, this day is celebrated by having one’s boyfriends dress up as Darth Vader.”

“If you insist.”

“Seriously, Ren, let go of me.”

“Come back to bed. No one will be on the bridge.”

“Why not?”

“I told you. It’s a holiday. I gave everyone the day off.”

“You did WHAT?”

“Late last night I sent out a message, informing everyone of Darth Vader Day. I figured that the fewer people watching your Cosmic Toaster of Doom blowing up the wrong thing, the better.”

“That was … surprisingly clever.”

“You make even a compliment sound like an insult,” Kylo whined as Hux relented and returned to bed. “Anyway, I thought we could use the day off for a little bit of tourism,” Kylo poked the pile of blankets next to him, “go see this one’s damn planet.”

*

“I hate planets,” griped Hux, sweating profusely and slapping at the incoming squadrons of vampiric bugs. Clearly they were with the _Loathsome_ Resistance. He wished he’d destroyed this revolting fungus world while he’d had the chance. It smelled of gym socks and rotting fruit.

“I had kind of noticed that,” said Kylo, “what with your war on planets and all. You don’t seem to like suns much either. This one is burning you up in revenge for its fallen brothers.”

“Yes, I hate suns too, all right? I like the cold dead silence of space.”

“That’s a shame – your hair looks so good in the sunlight,” Kylo mused, “like a halo or a crown.”

Kylo was sweating profusely as well. Like Hux, he owned only black clothing. Only Mitaka, who was dressed in khaki, was enjoying himself.

Leaving the command shuttle in the shade of a craggy outcrop (being matte black it heated up fiercely if parked in the sun), they entered a forest of mushroom stems, the luminous lilac caps forming a high canopy. Bulbous carnivorous pitcher-plants towered above, their translucent aquamarine bellies twitching with the bodies of half-digested prey, even as their orange tongues whipped around seeking their next meal. Transparent golden fern fronds unfurled to brush the visitors' faces. Mitaka warned them to avoid the gigantic toxic puffballs that littered their way and several kinds of poison-spitting sentient plants. In the distance, a rancor roared. Where rays of scorching sun pierced the dense vegetation, the jungle sparkled like cut glass. A flock of crystalline birds swooped by, their prismatic bodies scattering the light into rainbows. It was, altogether, the most vile thing Hux had ever seen.

A giant gelatinous grub snuffled past them, vacuuming up phosphorescent lichen from the forest floor.

“That,” shouted Mitaka with glee, “that’s a gelagrub!”

“We have defied Snoke for _that_?” Hux was incredulous. “It actually looks a bit _like_ Snoke.”

“Prettier,” observed Ren, “it’s a nice sort of shimmery teal blue.” He tried to remember exactly when he had gone from lauding his master’s wisdom to comparing him to an enormous gummy caterpillar. 

“Can we go now?” Hux pleaded.

“But we can have so much fun in the outdoors,” Ren leered suggestively. “Have you ever had sex in a hot spring?”

“The lagoons contain tube worms,” Mitaka cheerfully informed them, “and also flesh-eating bacteria.”

Hux shivered violently. The fetid air lapped at his skin and he could feel his hair gel melting. Suddenly, a green fleshy tendril lashed out and wrapped itself around him, coating him in thick sticky nectar. He tried to grab his blaster, but his hands were bound tightly to his sides. Before he had a moment to panic, Ren had activated his saber and slashed through the predatory vine. He leaned in to lick a stripe of the syrupy goo from Hux’s face. “Perhaps we should go home afterall.”

Back on Ren's shuttle, Hux peeled off the ruined shirt and sank into a plush velour couch. Although he disliked the vehicle's interior décor – black lights, posters of Vader, and a totally gratuitous pool table – he was relieved to be away from the planet’s overwhelming strangling sweetness and back in sterile air-conditioned comfort. Mitaka curled up next to him, beaming. “You know I would do anything for you,” Hux aimed for levity, although his recent actions belied his tone, “but please let’s NEVER do that again.”  

“Never?” Kylo called back from the pilot’s seat. “I thought that honey-tentacle-plant thing had some real potential. Perhaps we could grow one on the ship. For personal use.”

 

*

 

The divot between Hux’s eyebrows, as he scanned his datapad, the slight pursing of his lips – these could be indicators of annoyance, but Mitaka also observed the tension in the man’s jaw, and the slight twitch beneath his left eye. It was an emotion he had never before seen on the general’s face: fear. He raised a questioning eyebrow. In response, Hux wrapped a protective arm around him and then put down the datapad and added a second arm for good measure. Ren stalked over and enveloped both men in his looming embrace.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” asked Mitaka, a cold coil of dread uncurling in his belly.

“The Supreme Leader has summoned us in person,” said Ren. “The three of us.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want the DeathPod to be a thing. It looks like an airstream trailer.  
> The Finalizer is running Windows 8, in case you were wondering.  
> Information on Felucia comes from _Star Wars: The Essential Atlas_ (1998) by Jason Fry. There are some pretty pictures of it [ here ](http://www.starwars.com/news/felucia-cellophane-flowers-of-yellow-and-green-and-rancors/).


	3. An education

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snoke discovers his hard squicks.  
> 

Snoke’s miserable, barren, and heavily defended planet, which the knights called the Snokadel, was located on the far reaches of outer nowhere. Hux and Kylo had only been summoned there once before, immediately following the destruction of Starkiller Base. This time round, the Finalizer had taken such a circuitous route here, with so many unnecessary detours, that the troopers, and some of the officers (out of Hux’s hearing) had unofficially renamed the ship _The Procrastinator._

Now, as the three men made their final descent, the rocky terrain rushed up to meet the command shuttle. A worrying sight greeted them as they prepared to land: in the parking lot stood six other Upsilon-class shuttles. For a moment Kylo hoped it could be coincidence – perhaps these were not his knights’ vehicles – but, the flame decals affixed to the massive wings of the nearest craft and its oversized aftermarket ion engines clearly identified it as Pyro’s ship.

“Did you know they were here?” Hux asked.

“No, they are shielding their minds.” A bad sign. A very bad sign indeed.

The three emerged from the shuttle and headed through the vast doorway into Snoke’s mountain-fortress, the shorter men flanking Kylo. Impulsively, he reached an arm around each. It was a testament to Hux’s fear that he allowed it. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he growled, “either of you.”

“Well we have the bravest Knight of Ren to protect us.” Hux covered his unease with customary snark. “I mean Mitaka, of course.”

Snoke’s shadowy throne room was just as cavernous as the holochamber. Its size only emphasized the man's diminutive stature as he regarded them from his lofty dais. Arrayed before the stairway were the Supreme Leader’s own death squad, the six masked knights of Ren.

“Lord Ren, General,” the small figure intoned. “I am most displeased. You presented me with this wretched _creature_ ,” he spat, a spidery hand gesturing toward Mitaka, “once before, and what I saw in its feeble mind confused me. So,” continued the aged monstrosity, “I consulted the holonet, and became cognizant of many things.” (Why had anyone, thought Hux, shown Snoke how to use the holonet?) “Now, I am no enemy of _deviance_ , and I have tolerated the use the two of you have made of one another, but this – this mewling underling – has distracted you and bent you to his depraved will.”

“Supreme Leader,” beseeched Kylo, “he is a mere plaything. He is nothing to us. He has no power.”

“Then, WHAT,” boomed Snoke, “happened to Felucia? Did you obliterate it as I ordered? And what of Gamorr, Onderon, and Rodia?” Kylo bowed his head. Each one had had some interesting biological specimen that was important to Mitaka. After a while, Hux hadn’t even bothered to pretend he was going to blow up jungle planets.

“You have committed great wrongs against me,” Snoke continued, “but I have use for you yet. Therefore, I will let you atone.  Kylo Ren, my wayward apprentice, eradicate your weakness. Only through destroying the thing you _love_ ,” he sneered the word, “can you once again become strong in the Dark Side. Now, sacrifice this one to me, or your own knights will destroy you!”

The Knights of Ren surrounded the three men. Kylo reached out desperately with the Force, but their minds were an impenetrable wall. He unclipped his saber from his belt, and turned towards Mitaka, desperately trying to buy himself some more time.

“Ren, no!” Hux stepped between the knight and the lieutenant, trying to shield the younger man.

Logically, Kylo knew he should kill Mitaka, to give himself and Hux a chance of survival, but the Supreme Leader was right – affection had made him weak. _Think, think_ , he ordered his brain. He looked to Mitaka. Hux might refuse to acknowledge Mitaka’s intellectual superiority, but Kylo had no such qualms. “Help,” he begged the actual Best Tactician in the First Order, “tell me what to do.”

And Mitaka smiled a small secret smile and pulled Kylo and Hux down with him as he knelt on the cold floor.

“What are you doing?” hissed Hux. The knights were circling them now, sabers raised. Snoke stood, rising to his full 5’2”, and slowly descended the staircase. Milo Ren raised his blade high above Kylo.

“The knights of Ren,” Mitaka whispered to Hux, “ _pretend_ to sacrifice their leader every time they are reunited. It's a ritual. Also," he smirked, "they pretty much belong to me.”

Milo’s saber came crashing down, inches from Kylo, striking a fountain of sparks from the floor. Milo laughed maniacally. “Your knights greet you, Lord Ren!” he shouted, “and you, Mitaka Ren, whom we have sworn to protect!” Then, they whirled about, sabers aloft, and charged screaming up the stairs towards Snoke. Ren, too, leapt into the fray.

“About time!” said Mitaka.

“They are always so dramatic about everything,” complained Hux. Mitaka wrapped his arms around him, and they huddled together beneath the onslaught, aware that their blasters could accomplish nothing.

The knights, though fearless, were no match for Snoke’s Force powers. The ancient gargoyle laughed mirthlessly as he hurled bolt after bolt of Force lightening at his assailants, sending them crashing to the ground.

“My foolish knights,” he mocked. “Did you think you could defeat ME?” With an exaggerated gesture, he threw himself into their minds, tearing them apart and leaving them gasping in agony. Kylo held out the longest. As he swayed on his feet, Hux caught him and lowered him awkwardly into his lap. Mitaka scrambled around to his other side, helping to support Ren’s weight.

The Supreme Leader, completely untouched by the fracas, stepped onto the floor. The only sounds were his footfalls and the knights’ agonized breaths. He came to a halt before the pathetic _pietà_ of Ren’s bleeding and barely conscious body splayed across his lovers’ laps.

Mitaka scowled up at the leader, incensed. “You are SO SHORT!” he screamed. “They are always calling me small! But you are TINY.”

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” Snoke asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“I am TIRED of being afraid.” Mitaka extricated himself from Hux and Kylo and stood, towering over Snoke. It felt so good, _finally_ , to loom over someone. When not being compared to the freakish First Order giants, Mitaka was actually quite tall.

“What is it about you, Dopheld Mitaka,” wondered Snoke, “that makes powerful men willing to lay down their honor, their ambition, their very lives for you? You are such an ordinary thing.” The Supreme Leader reached out a wizened hand, clawing into Mitaka’s consciousness. Mitaka screamed and reached for every debauched memory and fantasy. He focused on the colors, the details, the sensations, smells, sounds, and tastes and pushed the barrage of images to the forefront of his mind. 

_Mitaka cuffed to a bed while Ren and Hux alternate in bringing him right to the brink of pleasure, and then backing off while he beg, beg, begs them not to stop. The metal cuffs bite into his wrists every time he writhes. Every last nerve in his body is strung too tight, and he is going to die from the intense pleasure-pain of it all._

_Mitaka impaled between his two lovers, Hux thrusting into him from behind, as Ren uses his face. There are bruises on his hips and his knees and he can barely breathe. He is filled with a fierce, rapturous joy._

_Ren, strung up and blind-folded, Hux flaying bloody stripes across his back as Mitaka watches. The man’s dark hair clings damply to his face. His mouth is a rictus of pain. The only sounds are his ragged breathing, the thwack of the cane, and the sound of Mitaka's hand on his own flesh._

_Hux’s face turning purple as Ren chokes him from across the room, while invisible Force fingers work him open, preparing him for his lovers._

  _Hux carving complicated sigils – prayers, love poems – into Ren’s pale back with a knife. Mitaka gently tonguing the salty-sweet blood from the new scars, and then wiping them with a bacta patch._

_Ren smoothing lube over his entire arm, flexing his fingers, while Mitaka, flinches before him on all fours, trembling with both desire and fear. He has never felt so alive._

_Ren crawling across the floor on knees and elbows, bloodied, broken, and owned. Kneeling before Hux’s feet, swiping his tongue over the general’s shiny boots._

_Ren dressed only in a burgundy satin corset and fishnet stockings, looking over his shoulder at his lovers, his face illuminated by his rare and beautiful smile._

_Ren and Hux in the shower, Ren unleashing a stream of piss on the horrified general, and laughing at Hux’s response._

_The general on his knees, cuffed and gagged, uniform torn, blood and cum mingling in his messy hair, when he has finally, **finally** , relinquished his power and allowed his lovers to take control. _

_Hux bending Mitaka over the console on the bridge of the Finalizer, penetrating him with his tongue as the blazing light from the weapon spears through the sky._

_Mitaka wearing the elaborate hair style and face paint of Padmé Amidala, while Ren places reverent kisses across his collarbone, each one a promise._

_Hux in a cheap Vader mask, Ren naked on his knees before him, eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Mitaka, wearing a honey blond wig with a padawan's braid, approaches with a large black latex toy cast in the shape of the Sith lord's fist._

 

 “By the Force,” gasped Snoke, “what is WRONG with you?”

 

_The three of them on the shores of a lake on Naboo where Ren’s grandparents were married, even though Hux _hates_ mosquitos, because Ren thinks it’s the most romantic place in the galaxy._

_Somewhere planet-side. Rain is falling on the roof. Hux snakes his arms around Mitaka in the slow lazy hours of morning. Ren, out of sight in the kitchen, is making hotcakes, the smell wending its way over to his sleepy lovers. On the bed, an orange cat is purring._

Mitaka's thoughts were interrupted by a choked guttural scream, a noise of basest revulsion, of deep, true horror. “That’s DISGUSTING!” Snoke howled. “STOP!” But there was no mercy in Mitaka’s soul. He dug deeper, bringing forth the most nauseating ideas he could summon.

 

_Ren and Mitaka smearing jam and cream over Hux’s freckled skin, licking it off, as the ticklish redhead giggles helplessly, and then the three of them writhing together in the filthy, sticky sheets._

_The three men standing in an ancient temple -- Ren in a black and silver embroidered jacket, Mitaka in a deep blue watered silk robe, and Hux wearing a gold and crimson cape over his usual attire -- before the red-skinned Kissai priest who blesses their union._

_The three men in a pristine indoor market where each stall is stacked high with perfect and eye-wateringly expensive exotic produce. Ren is scowling, but Hux is smiling as he adds organic Kiwip-grass and heirloom Geldan sun-apples to his basket._

_Hux and Mitaka beaming down at an exhausted yet radiant Ren, who holds a tiny sleeping infant in his arms (is that even possible? Mitaka does not stop to ask)._

Snoke let out one last anguished moan and sank, sobbing to the ground, clawing at his eyes, as though he could erase the images imprinted on his mind. Scrabbling at the stone floor, he hauled himself away from Mitaka, whimpering pitifully, trying to flee, until he crumpled, and collapsed. A great spasm wracked his frail form, and then he was still. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is a Girls reference in there.  
> Also, sorry about the Whole Foods Market thing. (But you KNOW Hux shops there.)


	4. Triumvirate

The knights of Ren were sprawled around the observation deck on some First-Order logo beanbags. Showing his customary foresight, Mitaka had started charging the DeathPod before they left for the Snokadel, so it was ready to annihilate the miserable rock shortly after they returned, battered and bruised, to the Finalizer. Kylo Ren thought that Mitaka’s audacious attack had probably killed the Supreme Leader, but it seemed pragmatic to destroy his newly vulnerable citadel all the same. They all watched from the observation deck as ‘The Toaster,’ as it was known due to both its form and function, directed its shimmering turquoise beam of death upon the barren world. The knights raised their glasses and uttered a loud cheer as the planet exploded.

Kylo, reclining languidly between his lovers, recounted the story of Mitaka’s defeat of Snoke. The knights’ laughter became more raucous as they drained the last of the Corellian reserve. Nero Ren, having given up on finding himself a Mitaka, had ensnared Petty Officer Thanisson instead. Said Thanisson, cuddled against his knight’s chest, blushed heavily as Kylo recalled – and perhaps elaborated upon – the series of acts that Mitaka had described to Snoke.

“What are they going to put in the history books?” asked Pyro. “Snoke defeated by the power of love?”

“That’s one word for it,” smirked Mitaka, grabbing Kylo’s brandy and topping up Hux’s glass, before taking a swig from the bottle.

“Speaking of Snoke,” said Tyro Ren, his ombre purple hair sparkling in the starlight, “we seem to be lacking one Supreme Leader.”

Hux sat up straighter.

“Since Mitaka defeated Snoke, perhaps we should nominate him,” suggested Milo.

“We have already sworn allegiance to him,” Nero agreed, “and _Emperor Mitaka_ has a nice ring to it.”

“That is very kind, but I couldn’t,” the man in question demurred. “I’m not really one for speeches.”

Hux elbowed Kylo in the ribs. “O.K., love, I get it,” Kylo whispered before raising his voice to address the knights as a whole. “I happen to know of someone with a life-long imperial ambition,” Kylo informed them. “He looooves giving speeches, has some leadership experience, and would look good in a tiara. Maybe they can work out some sort of power-sharing agreement.”

“It’s called a diadem on an emperor," Hux corrected crossly, "tiaras are for princesses.”

“Mitaka would make a good princess,” commented Nero.

“I would,” he agreed. “I would like a tiara.”

“You could wear those two little buns, one over each ear – I hear that is standard princess attire,” Hux risked a glance in Kylo’s direction, “perhaps even a metal bikini.”

“That is _enough_!” Kylo shouted.

“Well, what about you?” Hux turned to Kylo, “Do you want to be an empress? You could break out the Padme Amidala ensemble.”

“Tempting,” he hummed, running his prominent nose through Hux’s hair. “Although I think I would rather be your enforcer.” He nipped Hux’s neck, but only gently. “It has a better weaponry-to-headdress ratio. Also, more murder, fewer boring banquets.”

*

“Do you think Mitaka’s stratagem would work on Jedi?” asked Hux, sometime later.

“I imagine it would work even better. They take an oath of celibacy after all,” Kylo replied.

“So, can you try it out on Luke Skywalker?”

“That is disgusting. He is my uncle!”

“Doesn’t he even look a little bit like his father?”

“You are _vile_!” Kylo got up and stalked off.

“You’re going to have to make it up to him,” said Mitaka, humming the imperial march under his breath. “You might as well go get the mask.”

 

*

Hux had protested that the Finalizer cafeteria was not an appropriately grandiose setting for a coronation. He insisted, instead, that it be held on the prestigious Core planet Anaxes and, once the Finalizer, Toaster in tow, was parked in orbit around the planet, Anaxes quickly agreed.

The officers and troopers of the Finalizer and the other Star Destroyers (the Decider, the Exterminator, and the Enabler), were arrayed across the parade grounds. The day was sunny and mild with a light breeze. A high stage was bedecked with red and black banners displaying the First Order insignia.

Hux looked resplendent in his imperial garb – a black cape, lined in deep crimson velvet, fluttered from his shoulders, and a delicate rose-gold diadem (not tiara) encircled his head, complementing the reddish-gold of his perfectly coiffed hair. He wore a belted black jacket, reminiscent of his general’s uniform, plain black pants, and highly polished boots. On one side stood Kylo Ren, dressed in his customary style, although – at Hux’s insistence – the garment had been constructed from the blackest silk, and the long skirts whipped dramatically in the slightest breeze. His hair had been pulled back from his face in a complicated bun, although he had destroyed two hairstylist droids in the process. On the other side, stood Mitaka, wearing a trailing, wide-sleeved robe of midnight blue satin embroidered with constellations. Atop his glittering diamond tiara (and Hux had mades sure that they were all blood diamonds) a miniature sun shone across a system of tiny spinning planets. 

Beside them stood Mitaka’s personal militia, the Knights of Ren. Unmasked for once, their beautiful flowing hair gleamed in the sun, rivaling Phasma’s shiny armor.

 **“ _All systems will bow to the Imperial Triumvirate_!”** shouted Milo Ren, raising his saber, and the crowd cheered with obedient enthusiasm.

It was the best day of Hux’s life – something he had dreamed of since he was a small child. He had always known, deep down, that he was destined to be emperor, although he had never pictured himself flanked and supported by his lovers and co-rulers – the most vicious knight and the _second_ best strategist in the galaxy. Glancing at them, a curl of warmth unfurled in his stony heart, as it often did, and he felt an all-embracing tenderness towards Mitaka and a huff of fond annoyance at Kylo. And if the knights, and then the crowd below, took up the chant _MI-TA-KA, MI-TA-KA_ , with rather more zeal than they had exhibited in acclaiming the triumvirate, well, he found he didn’t really didn’t mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is [Space Princess Mitaka in his star system tiara](http://xanthippe-in-the-snow.tumblr.com/post/143224469231/mitaka-in-the-star-crown-the-planets-are-hoth).


	5. Epilogue: The Princess Diaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The uncalled for high-crack epilogue. The imperial triumvirate attends a ball and spends the weekend at Leia’s house. Poe Dameron flirts with Mitaka. Hux and Ren finally realize that they are pawns in Mitaka’s galactic agenda and admit their feelings for each other. Angst and fluff ensue.

General Leia Organa’s dark eyes were aglow, the edges crinkled into a radiant smile, as she swept across the cavernous ballroom, arms extended to embrace the man. “Your majesty!”

“General!” greeted Mitaka, sweeping her up into a warm embrace.

Behind him Hux and Ren glowered with ill-concealed rage. “Here I am with two princesses and two generals,” sulked Ren. “Fantastic.” Hux graced him with a scornful look.

Since the coronation of the Imperial Triumvirate, the First Order (which is to say Mitaka) had been pursuing a policy of détente with the New Republic. Hux had been unhappy, but Mitaka had explained that it was the only economically feasible course, and that no number of speeches about “ushering in a new era of peace and prosperity” meant anything if people were starving. The First Order’s strategy, like that of the Empire before them, of sinking vast amounts of money into easily destroyed planet-obliterating weaponry, had been financially disastrous.

“You don’t have to mindlessly spout your father’s isolationist xenophobic ideology any more,” Mitaka had said. Hux was about to chastise him for treason and threaten him with reconditioning, when he recalled that Mitaka was officially the Imperial Tsarina, or some such thing, and by definition could not be guilty of treason. Hux had finally relented when Mitaka had shown him an image of the rusted and meteor-damaged Finalizer towing the Planetary Obliteration Device, to which some _descpicable_ member of the Resistance had added a “Toaster Trash” bumper sticker. The Finalizer was desperately in need of repairs that they couldn’t currently afford. Some of its armored hull plating was a revolting shade of turquoise (having been scavenged off an old destroyer from a more fabulous era) and there were numerous small asteroid-craters that needed panel beating. Honestly, Hux was embarrassed to be seen driving around in the thing. And still towing a DeathPod 4 when everyone else had a DeathPod 6S was humiliating. (Ren, of course, had never subscribed to any ideology at all beyond “will this annoy my parents?” Accordingly, he cared little about Mitaka’s new conciliatory strategies, but he was furious that his mother was pleased.)

So, the First Order had entered into discussions with the New Republic aimed at normalizing relations and ending trade sanctions. Hux and Ren sulked and grumbled beneath their diadems, but they didn’t really understand finances whereas Mitaka came from a long line of accountants. Now, following several weeks of excruciatingly dull talks with leading members of the New Senate on Coruscant, the two sides had reached an agreement. The gala was to celebrate the signing of the treaty.

*

“Will there be assassins at the party?” Mitaka had asked hopefully, earlier that evening. “Maybe it’s a trap!” Reclining in the black marble bathtub, he recalled how magnificent Ren had been slaughtering the conspirators who had threatened Hux on Thyferra.

Hux snorted. “No. The Republic is much too noble and trusting.” He picked up a sponge and rubbed it over the younger man’s back and chest. “Let’s disarm the galaxy on the honor system,” he intoned in a round-voweled impersonation of a Coruscant accent. “We’ll go first! Don’t go building any Resurgent-class star destroyers in the Unknown Regions!” Careful to keep his clothes dry, he bent to lick the back of Mitaka’s neck and nuzzle his jaw line. “Time to get out of the tub. The princess can’t be late to the ball.”

At that moment, Ren, clomped naked through the palatial bathroom and splashed down into the tub on top of Mitaka, making the water overflow. Hux scuttled back, emitting an un-imperial squeal. “Now you’ve got my clothes all wet, you beast!” he fumed. Ren laughed and reached out to grab Hux by his shirt and pull him into the bath with them.

Ren pushed down his sodden trousers, and grasped his cock in a soapy hand, while Mitaka applied some bath oil to his fingers and began stroking the cleft of his ass.

“Do you know, I can use the Force to breathe underwater?” Ren dove beneath the surface to prove his point. Hux bucked up out of the water, caught between Mitaka’s probing fingers and Ren’s hot mouth.

They were ridiculously late, and Hux was forced to wear his second best imperial regalia.

*

“Have you met Poe Dameron?” General Organa indicated a shockingly handsome, well-built man who was hovering at her side, resting a protective hand on her back.

“Only in passing,” answered Mitaka. “I believe I saw you escape in a TIE fighter once. It was very impressive.” (Mitaka, master of diplomacy, did not mention that he had fired the ventral cannons that had disabled that very fighter.)

Dameron graced Mitaka with a truly stunning smile. Ren emerged from the shadows to bare his teeth and growl at the man. “It’s been a while, Kylo Ren,” Poe said, tightening his hold on General Organa’s waist, “or should I say, _son_.”

Poe Dameron choked and scrabbled at his own throat.

_“BEN SOLO!”_

_“KYLO REN!”_

Organa and Mitaka shouted simultaneously.

“What did I tell you about force choking people in public?” asked Mitaka sternly.

Ren looked abashed. “Not unless they really deserve it or ask nicely,” he mumbled contritely.

“Well, it’s good to see someone has him under control,” the senator and erstwhile princess smiled at Mitaka. “So, when are you going to make an honest man of my son?”

Ren choked loudly on his snekfruit cosmopolitan. Hux upgraded his sneer from _mildly annoyed_ to _I am going to destroy this fucking planet, and probably also its sun_.

“It’s complicated,” said Mitaka.

“Oh look, it’s the Knights of Rey,” sniffed Hux, interminable hours later. Rey, kneeling on the floor, was demonstrating how to do her signature three-bun style on Milo Ren’s flaxen hair, while the other knights sat in a circle watching in rapt fascination.

Kylo shivered. He was only afraid of three things in the galaxy: spiders, split ends, and his cousin. Hux noticed his disquiet. “There are 12 troopers with blasters trained on FN-2187,” Hux informed him. “If the scavenger scum so much as looks at you sideways, they’ll be on him like a rash.”

“Are you being protective?” Ren shuffled slightly closer to Hux.

“Pragmatic,” the emperor replied, leaning into the other man.

“Do you think she calls him FN-2187 in bed?” asked Ren.

“Probably,” answered Hux. “For all we know, she makes him wear the white helmet. The Resistance are a depraved lot.”

Emperor Hux and his enforcer were definitely not sulking around the punchbowl refusing to dance. Rather, they were scowling at Mitaka.“He’s been dancing with the _Best Pilot in the Resistance_ for three songs,” complained Ren.

“It probably just makes him feel tall,” said Hux. The pilot’s head of perfectly tousled mahogany hair was resting in the middle of Mitaka’s chest.

“Maybe he likes his hair,” said Ren with a touch of envy.

“It’s far too messy,” said Hux, scornfully. “It’s more likely that he has a fetish for the _loathsome_ Resistance.”

“Probably. He does have a lot of fetishes,” agreed Ren.

“This is ridiculous,” fumed Hux and stalked onto the dance floor. “Mind if I break in?” he elbowed Dameron out of the way without waiting for a response.

“What was that about?” Mitaka asked as the emperor drew him close.

“You forget to whom you belong,” hissed Hux.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” he replied sweetly.

“Then you forget who belongs to you.”

“I don’t forget that for a minute,” he smiled and gave Hux a glazed look of such lustful adoration, that the emperor felt suddenly foolish for his jealousy. “Let’s get back to the Command Shuttle,” Mitaka leaned to whisper in his ear, “I’ve been wanting you to fuck me over that pool table forever.”

*

It turned out that putting a pool table on an Upsilon-Class Shuttle was an even worse idea than it sounded. “Owww,” shrieked Hux as the shuttle shifted in flight, and a pool ball collided with his head. Ren currently had him bent over the table. Hux’s gold-embroidered burgundy cape was tossed unceremoniously over one shoulder; the green felt was sticky beneath his cheek, and his diadem was pressing into his temple. He would have been complaining, except that Ren was pounding into him so hard that he was fast losing the ability to think, let alone form words. Mitaka, already well sated, lay sprawled across one of the black leather couches. Several black-light posters of Darth Vader watched proceedings from behind their impassive helmets.

*

“I know you are not going to like this,” Mitaka informed his co-rulers, “but sometimes we all need to make sacrifices for the greater good. Senator Organa has agreed to negotiate an emergency financial rescue package for the Order, if,” Mitaka took a deep breath, “if we agree to spend the weekend at her house.” Kylo Ren stalked off. From down the hallway came the unmistakable sound of a console being destroyed.

And that is how Hux found himself in the Organa estate guesthouse while Mitaka and Ren were ensconced in Ren’s teenage bedroom.

“At least you didn’t have to sleep in a room with a model of each Death Star,” Mitaka informed Hux over breakfast, “and at least 8000 Darth Vader action figures.”

“I don’t know why your mother hates me so much,” Hux groused.

Ren hacked out a fake cough that sounded suspiciously like “Alderaan.”

“I didn’t even blow up that stupid planet.”

“She is against planeticide on principle now.”

At that moment, Poe Dameron swanned in wearing one of Leia’s floral dressing gowns, open across his perfectly sculpted bronze torso. Did everyone sleep well?” Ren coughed on his caf.

“If you didn’t want your mother dating, you shouldn’t have— ouch!” Hux yelped as Mitaka kicked him under the table.

“Patricide is one of the 17 things we agreed not to talk about here!” he hissed.

“Morning, Princess,” Dameron said, ruffling Mitaka’s hair.

“My mother’s boytoy is flirting with our boyfriend again,” Ren fumed quietly at Hux.

“So how did you three get together?” Poe turned his radiant smile on Mitaka.

“I encountered them in my meteoric rise to power.”

“That puzzles me about you,” said Leia, pouring herself a cup of caf and sitting on Poe’s lap, “you don’t really seem the power-hungry type,” she shot a pointed gaze across at Hux, who glared back.

“Not exactly,” he conceded. “My mother gave her life for the Order and I was raised to serve it. I worked hard at the Academy, followed all the regulations, and became an officer. Then I started to see how terribly everything was run.” Hux scowled as Mitaka continued. “The Order was making all the same mistakes as the Empire – more interested in blowing things up than building infrastructure; allowing governors and commanders to follow their own personal interests, rather than a coherent and flexible policy; building financially ruinous, easily destroyed weapons; fostering rebellion through heavy-handed oppression. And Snoke only cared about wiping out the Jedi, not preserving the Order’s stability. He supported Ren in what amounted to a family feud played out on a galactic stage, with a body count in the billions.” It was Ren’s turn to huff. “I knew I could manage things better, but I lacked key resources, like family prestige, military power, and the Force. But then, when these two began pursuing me, I realized that between the three of us, we had an almost perfect combination of brains, brawn, and authority.”

“I can see you are quite the strategic mastermind,” Leia acknowledged, “a consummate politician.” Ren pushed back from the table and stormed out of the house.

“Excuse me,” said Hux with icy politeness, before following him.

“I’ve hurt their feelings,” Mitaka sighed. “I thought they knew.”

 

*

Ren and Hux were sitting on a rock overlooking the small lake behind the house. Hux had his head on Ren’s shoulder. “I really thought he loved us,” Hux said. “Instead of just using us for power and sex.”

“Well, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so bad,” Ren tried to joke, but his voice sounded a little choked. He leaned his head against Hux’s and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“I am supposed to be the heartless sociopath in this relationship,” Hux complained.

“We could stage a coup,” suggested Hux. “Oust him from power. Keep him chained up in a dungeon.”

“He would probably like that. Anyway, we can’t overthrow him. He’s the most popular of us, and he’s not wrong: he _is_ the brains of the operation. You’re a tyrant and I’m a monster. We’re awful without him. Plus, I think he might actually be Master of the Knights of Ren, and Phasma has his back.”

“You’re right,” sighed Hux. “So, we’re stuck with him. In a loveless triumvirate of convenience.”

Ren kissed the top of his head, “Well, _I_ love you, you power-mad sociopath.”

“I love you too, terrible feral animal.”

They sat there, entwined in companionable sadness as the sun rose high over the lake and clouds of mosquitos feasted on their ankles.

*

  
“I’m sure he loves you. Really.” Leia sat awkwardly on the bed with her hand on her son’s back. “Politicians are just different from other people.”

“Go away, Mom!”

She sighed and rose to leave. “I’ll be downstairs if you boys need me.” From the far side of the room, Hux glowered up at her with unconcealed animosity. The hot chocolate she had placed beside him was untouched.

A soft knock sounded on the door. “Go away!” hissed Ren. Mitaka entered.

“You’re angry with me.” Ren and Hux glared. “I’m sorry. I really thought you knew, at least a little bit. It’s not so hard to work out.”

“It would have been easier to _work out_ ,” spat Hux, “if you didn’t act like you were in love, or at least lust, with us.”

“Brendol,” Mitaka sat down on the floor next to him, “love and the pursuit of power aren’t mutually exclusive.” Seeing that he was in for a long conversation, he settled his back against the wall. “When the two of you began your ridiculous competition to seduce me, I saw how great you could be – not by yourselves or even just with each other, but with me. I also saw two insanely beautiful, powerful men. Then, you became such sweet, adventurous, passionate lovers. How could I not fall in love with you?”

Hux grudgingly let Mitaka draw him into an embrace, and Ren joined them on the floor, crawling into Mitaka’s lap like a ridiculously oversized cat. They sat quietly for a while, Mitaka running his hands through their hair, soothing his wild beasts.

“Those times I beat you at Dejarik,” Hux interrupted the silence, “did you let me win?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not much of a strategist after all.” Hux looked utterly dejected.

“You’re emperor,” Mitaka said, taking his chin and looking into his pale eyes. He kissed him softly. “You did fine.”

The make up sex in Ren’s bedroom was not quiet. Several highly collectible Darth Vader action figures were never the same, and a scale model of the Inflictor was fatally injured in proceedings.

The triumvirate was never invited over for the weekend again.

  
* 

Hux and Ren were boarding the Command Shuttle when Leia accosted Mitaka. “Anakin Skywalker gave this to Padmé Amidala.” She handed him a huge, gaudy white gold ring inset with garnets and night pearls. “You could probably have it made into three separate rings.”

Mitaka beamed and kissed her on the cheek. He knew he would be the favorite son-in-law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sebastian Armesto in a black marble bathtub with strategic bubbles](http://i.imgur.com/m7RqkG8.jpg). You are welcome.


End file.
